
Untitled - oil on board 73cmx64cm
Fore with this frame of mine is burned Running after a dog in the streets every now and then looking down the pavement falling over my own garbage
There was a time when
There was a time when painkillers and pink balloons where sufficient
There was a time when
Cake and milk worked just fine
There comes a time when nothing is alive
There was a time when I was enough
There was a time when
Time was sand, sun, and moons.
Never it has been called pain before…
Not where I came from
Not where I walked away from
hurting the only thing that had not given up the ghost
tearing the little bits left
nourishing herself with her own creation
akin to a dog eating its own vomit
pissing on its own blanket
ordinary chaos for this kind of old birds
it seems
I forget and forgot
How still the air can stand
Then I had to imagine flying horses
Mountains behind each window
Happy whores
And men that wouldn’t leave